


Too Cold to Kneel

by RoyHankins



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyHankins/pseuds/RoyHankins
Summary: A doctor in a subterranean research base on Antarctica soon finds himself confused when his job becomes complicated by time travel, a Eutermesan, and more Kryptonians than one would expect.





	Too Cold to Kneel

All in all, Doctor Jonathan Smith was having quite the odd day at work. To be fair, most days working at an understaffed, top-secret research facility in Antarctica were fairly non-standard, but this one was abnormal even considering the circumstances. A few hours ago, he’d woken up from a short nap in his bunk in a fugue, stumbling around as if in a fog and unable to piece together his thoughts. Luckily, his boss was on-hand to get him out of it, but it was quite the embarrassing faux-pas.

Then, in-between scrutinizing biological samples and studying reports from other departments, a puzzling picture started to form. The charter for the expedition here had several hundred employees, but both on-record and in-person it was clear that Smith had maybe a few dozen coworkers, at most. There had been no way for anyone to leave the base, there wasn’t another trip back due for half a year, so where did the people go? Slowly, hour by hour, this side project consumed more and more of Smith’s time, to the point where he wasn’t working on his actual job at all. He was able to track the disappearances, at first only month by month but then week by week. The menial laborers of the station were the first to vanish, but after an initial slow period the disappearances began to pick up, swallowing whole departments before anyone could realize what was happening.

After a certain point, Smith knew he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. He compiled what he found into a succinct report and took it with him, from his office to the main control room for the station, the best place to find his boss. He was nervous as he walked, his lab coat fluttering over his somewhat anachronistic clothing. There had been scattered reports all day of two intruders in the facility, and while Smith hoped it was a lie, after what he’d found out ‘impossible’ felt like it was rapidly losing its meaning. Upon reaching the door he was looking for, Smith input his passcode and the thick metal door opened, allowing him entrance. Just before the door could close behind him, however, two people rushed in, out of breath. One of them was a young woman with blonde hair and wearing casual black clothing, something about her calling to Smith in a way that made him blush. The other was a nonhuman, or perhaps a metahuman, with a strangely textured skin and a bald head, wearing a black suit and black pants over a white shirt, complete with a tie. “Doctor!” the two intruders cried out in unison, the woman hugging him tightly and the nonhuman giving him a warm smile.

As enjoyable as the close contact from a member of the opposite sex was, Smith pushed the woman away and scowled at the two of them. “Yes, I am Doctor Jonathan Smith, and you are both intruders.” Turning away from them to head towards the nearest wall-mounted phone installation, as well as to avoid looking directly at the pretty young woman, Smith continued. “I’m going to call Mr. Doz and get to the bottom of this.”

Before he could get anywhere near the phone, the woman let out a strained growl. “Oh, now you went and did it, Doctor! I bet C’rizz the next destination choice that you hadn’t gone and lost your memory again, and now we’re sure to go somewhere boring!” Her words made no sense to Smith, but he didn’t have much time to think them over as the strange man caught him from behind in some sort of hold. Smith struggled as much as he could, but it was no use, this being clearly possessed superhuman strength. This ‘C’rizz’ turned around, and Smith with him, to face the woman, who was scrutinizing Smith intensely. “So, what do you think, C’rizz? Try to talk him out of it or bump on the head?”

“Hmm,” C’rizz said, his voice much smoother and more...normal, for lack of a better word, than Smith had expected. “Doctor, who exactly to you think you are?” The question had a sing-song, mocking quality to it, one that Smith did not like in the slightest. The very question was insulting.

“I am Doctor Jonathan Smith, a specialist in biology and  **you** are-” Before he could finish his sentence, C’rizz swung around, careening Smith’s head into a nearby wall. Pain flashed through his mind, but suddenly his perspective, his inner perspective, changed. His name was not Jonathan Smith, no he had long since abandoned his birth name. For years his friends had called him Theta Sigma, but long before he’d left his home planet he had taken up another name, a name now known throughout history: by allies and enemies, revolutionary leaders and tyrannical despots, and the few people he’d had the pleasure of calling his friends. His assistants. His companions. “C’rizz!” he suddenly shouted, his voice alight with delight. He turned to face the woman in the room. “Charley Pollard!” The Doctor was back to normal, smiling and full of energy, when he suddenly frowned and coughed. “Um, C’rizz, would you mind?”

Realizing that he was still holding his friend in a full body bind, C’rizz just said, “Oh, right, sorry about that,” and released The Doctor. He was happy to see the Time Lord back to normal, though he had lost his memory enough that this was becoming a bit of a routine. Suddenly, he remembered what they’d wanted to talk to him about. “Doctor, after we split up, Charley and I met a janitor here, named Jeremiah. He was suspicious at first, but we made up some story that we were, uh…”

“...Inspectors!” Charley jumped in, ready to start telling the story herself, with enthusiasm. “C’rizz just blurted it out, but I made up the whole cover story, said we were sent by investors to make sure things were running smoothly! He bought it, and told us something crazy: people have been disappearing! Jeremiah was the last maintenance person left on the station, but while we were investigating with him this robot showed up out of nowhere and kidnapped him! We tried to save him, we really did Doctor, but there was nothing we could do. He was taken-”

“-underneath the facility, into the secret sub-basement,” The Doctor interrupted, quickly walking over to a nearby computer and in seconds accessing the records he’d found buried in the data while he was Jonathan Smith, that he only now understood for that they really were. “The staff has been plundered, one by one, for years now. It started slowly, but just as any one employee had served their purpose, they were scooped up and put into specialized pods. Looking at what everyone was researching, it all  _ seems _ unrelated, but if you put everything together just right, it becomes clear: the man running this place is turning the abducted people into Kryptonians. The process will take several hundred years, but the benefactor behind it all has time to wait.” The sound of a door opening and closing behind them all startled C’rizz and Charley, but without moving at all, still staring at the computer monitor, The Doctor waited a few seconds and then said, a little louder. “Isn’t that right, General?”

The TARDIS team turned around to find a man standing there in a black uniform that matched his short hair and well-groomed goatee. The outfit wasn’t odd enough to draw too much attention, but any close scrutiny would tell you that it was alien, as alien as the man underneath it. Instead of walking closer, he floated into the air, effortlessly, his face stoic. “You’re absolutely correct, Doctor. But please, why don’t you introduce me to your friends? Though my planet may be dead and gone, the treaties of hospitality with Gallifrey must mean something, must they not?” His words were cold, but there was something in his tone that made all three of them aware that anger lurked not far beneath the calm he was projecting.

As though he hadn’t felt the aura of dread and menace from the man at all, The Doctor knelt to one knee with a smile on his face, his head low, and his companions quickly took the hint and did the same. “It is a pleasure to see you once again, General Dru-Zod of the Planet Krypton. I, The Doctor of Gallifrey, am joined by dear friends who I ask you show all the courtesies you would show to me. To my right is Charlotte Pollard, a Human from the early 1900’s, taken out of time to join me on my adventures. To my left is C’rizz, a Eutermesan from another dimension who helped me in a time of great need, also come to journey with me in this universe. Will you offer us a guarantee of safety in your citadel?”

Both of The Doctor’s heartbeats sped up as the three waited for the man’s response, and he wondered if his companions knew how dangerous the floating alien truly was, or how flimsy their protection was. The treaties signed between their peoples were millenia old, and with the planet of Krypton destroyed and the government with it, they only truly held if Zod wanted them too. “Rise and feel safe, my guests, for I accept your request.” Letting out the breath he’d been holding, The Doctor and his companions rose to face the Kryptonian. It had been a smart gamble after all. He had counted on Zod’s belief that he was the remaining embodiment of Krypton, and would therefore uphold its laws, so long as he felt it was convenient. “I am happy to see you’ve recovered your memories, Doctor. After finding you in your fugue state I did my best to help you recover.”

It was a bold-faced lie, of course, he had manipulated The Doctor’s amnesia for his own ends, but it wasn’t as if they were in any position to object, were they? So The Doctor bowed his head and said, as respectfully as he could, “My heartfelt thanks for your aid, General. May I ask why you have been creating a Kryptonian army out of these Humans?”

Instead of immediately answering his question, Zod floated over to a nearby computer, tapped a few keys, and suddenly a large, otherwise blanks wall to their side had a panel slide downwards, revealing a truly enormous monitor underneath. With another few clicks of the keyboard, Zod pulled up footage of a freezing room full of high-tech cylindrical pods, most filled with an occupant who could only be vaguely seen through the thick glass. One remained open, and a robot entered the frame, carrying a struggling human, most likely the Jeremiah person Charley and C’rizz had met, into frame, shoving him into a pod and shutting the door behind him. “I am giving them a gift, making them something far more than they could ever hope to be. Once they have all fully converted, I will lead them in finding a new home in the galaxy for us, and together we will make it a second Krypton, a new home.”

“Um,” came Charley’s voice, and suddenly all eyes were on her. She was clearly still a little scared of Zod, but couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What exactly is Krypton? What is a Kryptonian?” C’rizz made a noise of agreement, also clearly out of the loop.

Her question made Zod raise a sharp eyebrow, but he answered nonetheless. “The Doctor said you were both strangers to this time and place, correct? I will forgive you ignorance and offer you an explanation.” A few more taps on the keyboard, and suddenly the screen showed a planet, one whose enormous metropolis’s could be seen even from space. “Krypton was a space sector away from Earth, and while the Humans were still struggling to develop rudimentary mathematics, Krypton was already an interstellar superpower. We had grown into isolationists, with many of our foolish leaders deciding that the larger universe had nothing to offer us that we couldn’t create ourselves.

“It was our own hubris that killed our planet. For years we drew immeasurable energy from the internal forces of our planet, somehow without any expectation of consequences. My good friend, Jor-El, a scientist without peer, told the ruling council of Krypton that the planet would soon tear itself apart due to our machinations, but they refused to believe him. I tried to make them see reason, and when they refused I attempted to take control so that I could save as much of our people as I could. I failed, and my inner circle joined me in an interdimensional prison, the Phantom Zone. The planet did indeed explode, and I number one of the less than a dozen survivors of my species. Many on this planet know the friend of my son, Kal-El, a foolish man with more irrational compassion than intelligence.” The two strangers to the 20th Century listened with rapt attention, but just as the alien finished The Doctor couldn’t help himself and let out a rolling laugh, earning him a scowl from Zod.

When he had finally stopped himself from laughing further, The Doctor chipped in with his own two cents. “All of what he’s said is true, after a fashion, but he missed a few key details. Zod’s little revolution involved the deaths of nearly a hundred of his fellow Kryptonians, and if he’d managed to succeed he was only planning on saving those loyal to him. That floating you’re seeing from him is just one of a host of hidden traits in their species, only available to them after soaking in sunlight from a yellow star, the abilities lost to them after their own sun shifted into a red state, millenia ago. Kal-El, or as he is more commonly known here on Earth, Superman, is irrationally compassionate in the greatest of ways, and he has stood against Zod’s attempts to conquer or destroy Earth numerous times.” Directing his attention back towards the General, who was now looking rather openly irate. “Speaking of which, how exactly were you planning on keeping this facility a secret for centuries, Zod?”

For a moment, The Doctor was genuinely fearful that Zod would strike him, his eyes on the clenched left hand of the Kryptonian criminal, and he had no misunderstandings that he could survive such a hit. It would cost him a regeneration for certain. But then Zod let the tension go, his hand unclenching into an open palm, and he let out a deep breath he’d been holding. “I was forced to seek assistance for others, the Reach. They gave me access to their technology, and with that none not already aware of this facilities existence will be able to notice it. My army and I will sleep, and Kal-El will be none the wiser until it is too late for him to stop.” His eyes narrowed, and the pupils turned a bright red. They were focused on a nearby coffee mug, and the three watched as it melted into a muddle of molten ceramics. “I am allowing you the protections afforded to a guest, but should you attempt to alert anyone to my presence, that safety will end and you will be dead before-”

Zod was unable to finish his sentence, as suddenly and without warning a blue blur crashed through the wall and high speeds and slammed into him. “Head to the TARDIS, go to Smallville, 8pm today!” came a voice just as both the new figure and Zod smashed through the opposite wall.

“Well, you heard Superman, let’s leave!” The Doctor shouted, suddenly sprinted towards the nearby door and opening it with a whistle from his sonic screwdriver, his companions hot on his heels. He was using his ‘this is serious’ voice, and they’d learned to do whatever he said when he was in that mood, so long as he wasn’t currently possessed by a malevolent entity. After finally reaching the TARDIS, the Doctor quickly fiddled with the controls, departing their location as quickly as he could. The TARDIS was able to withstand quite a bit, but The Doctor didn’t want to test her durability against the struggle of two solar-powered Kryptonians. Setting the new coordinates once in the Time Vortex, they soon landed, but not at their intended destination.

Four false stops and three adventures later, The Doctor, Charley, and C’rizz landed outside Jake’s Pit Stop, a local diner in Smallville on the exact day and time he’d been trying to hit. The Doctor was practically beaming after he realized they had successfully landed in the correct coordinates. “See, I told you we’d get there eventually.”

It was a struggle for C’rizz to resist rolling his eyes at the Time Lord. “Ah yes, fifth time’s the charm, I suppose.” Together, the group entered the restaurant and found themselves being waved over by someone already in a booth. The Doctor sat next to the man who’d been waiting for them, and Charley sat across from him, with C’rizz at her side. At first, neither the Human nor the Eutermesan realized who this man was. He was large, that was to be sure, but his clothes looked slightly too large for him, and he was slumped forward over the table slightly, a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose, as if they were a centimeter away from falling off. He gave them a weak smile at their approach, and their first impression was that he looked like an overworked, good-natured man who would give a mugger his house keys along with his wallet.

“It’s good to see you all again. Doctor, would you care to introduce me?” His voice was soft and meek, but it was also warm and kind. The Doctor did as instructed, happily giving their names to the man along with a brief description of who they were while extolling their virtues. Before the conversation could progress, a waitress who looked to be well past her prime came to their table, took their order, and gave a wave to their unknown guest before departing to the kitchen. “Sorry, I haven’t given you my name yet…” the man sitting next to The Doctor murmured, running a hand through his short black hair, before extended a hand to Charley and then C’rizz, shaking theirs with a grip far stronger than they had expected. “My name is Clark Kent, and I’m a reporter for the Daily Planet. I’m originally from here, Smallville, though.”

As if he was in on a joke his companions weren’t, The Doctor elbowed the man and said, “Well, that’s all in how you want to look at it. Some might say you’re originally from the planet Krypton, thousands of light-years away from Earth.” Suddenly, the two looked at Clark with new eyes, realizing who he was. Their dinner continued, with each member of the party sharing tales and offering advice, sympathy, whatever was needed. It became clear that, at some point, they would need to go into the past and inform Superman of where Zod’s base was and when to hit it. By the time the meal was over, and the travelers departed back to their TARDIS, they did so with an understanding that the universe was a little brighter than they thought it was. No matter what horrors they faced, Clark was back on Earth, doing everything he could to make it a better place. To help others, to inspire them, to stand for something more. Perhaps that was something they could do as well. After all, what was a Doctor for, other than to heal?


End file.
